His Butler, Deduced
by TheFullmetalSociopath
Summary: What happens when two pairs of investigators, both with very different methods, meet? John Watson is woken in the middle of the night at 221B by some very loud noises, and rushes in to see a child and a tall, dark man standing in his flat, talking to Sherlock. The questions don't stop coming, and very few are answered. Rated T just to be safe. ABANDONED
1. Prologue: Intruder at 221B

**Hello potential readers! TheFullmetalSociopath is here with their first story. I'm super sorry about the length. I am so used to writing short stories this is going to take me some time to adjust. However, with the current length of chapters I will likely be able to update daily (okay maybe not chapters, maybe I'll just update this to make it longer). Please** _ **please**_ **read my story and stay alert for updates on this and new stories of mine.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own either Kuroshitsuji or Sherlock. But please, enjoy what would happen if I did, in fact, own them. Maybe.**

* * *

Prologue: Intruder at 221B

 _ **John Watson**_

 _Thud._

John groaned and turned over in his bed, pulling the sheets closer around his body. He never got a wink of sleep these days, sharing a flat with such a character. He harrumphed at the thought and clenched his eyes shut. Tonight he was determined to _not_ get out of bed for some stupid, _stupid,_ idea, or experiment, or whatever that would surely….

 _Thud._

John sighed and, grumbling about his lot in life, made his way to the door to his bedroom. He reached to pull the door open when he heard a sound unlike the prior ones. This was different.

A crash. The tinkling of broken glass. Another thud, this one much heavier, as if a certain _someone_ had thrown a book out of the window and upturned an undeserving article of furniture in frustration over a case. _Or perhaps,_ whispered the soldier in John, _an intruder jumped into your flat through the window._

John immediately leapt into action, wrenching the door open and bolting down the narrow hallway to where the noise came from. He grabbed a gun from a hidden nook on his way, not taking any chances. The cold metal soothed his nerves as he tried to tell himself it was just that Sherlock had thrown a fit. But his instincts told him that this was bad.

And his instincts never lied.

He arrived in the room where the noise had come from, and was surprised to see Sherlock speaking to… a child. _What?_ A child standing amid the shards of glass from the broken window, with a tall man clad in dark clothing lurking behind him like a shadow. What on earth was going on here?

* * *

 **I know, I know.**

 **The story was way too short, if I can even call it a story so early on in the writing process. Just bear with me, okay? Please review and check out some of my other stories. Any advice is good advice, just back it up with evidence if you're gonna throw hate. Also, if you have any suggestions for other stories, or heck, even for the plot in this one, let me know.**

 **Hope you liked it!**

 **~TheFullmetalSociopath**


	2. Chapter 1: A Discussion Over Tea

**Alright, hello again!**

 **I have updated the last story a little tiny bit, the writing is the same, it's just a prologue now. I have tried to lengthen this one up a bit, so I hope you like it. Please read and review! Enjoy the first official chapter!**

 **Disclaimer:** _ **No**_ **I don't own Kuroshitsuji or Sherlock. I am just a huge fan, that's all.**

* * *

Chapter One: A Discussion Over Tea… and a Gun or Two

 _ **Sherlock Holmes**_

Sherlock hated feeling stupid. His brother had always done it to him just to get on his nerves, sitting there with some smug expression of superiority plastered on his face as he baited Sherlock towards the answer to some riddle that, if he wasn't such an arse, could have just _told him the answer_ so they could get on with their lives. That was how Sherlock felt now. He was absolutely stumped by the two intruders in his flat.

The small boy that stood in front of him couldn't be more than thirteen or fourteen years old, but his eyes- or rather eye, since the child wore an eyepatch- held a quality that Sherlock had seen in many of much greater age. And on the subject of his eyes, they were startlingly blue, so much so that he would have inquired if they were colored contacts had he the time. He had dark hair and wore dark, yet well tailored clothing, and held himself like royalty, fixing a superior gaze on Sherlock.

Sherlock gritted his teeth. He did not like to be looked at like that by anyone, much less a child less than half his age. He distracted himself from his frustration by doing what he did best: deducing. _Superior gaze, expensive clothing, two large rings on his fingers… from a rich family? A gaze that told of age, or experience and an eyepatch that may be covering an injury… parental abuse? Kidnapping?_ None of those things were quite right though, he was still missing something important. _How did he get through the window? Not physically fit enough to scale the wall or break the glass. The tall man must have gotten them through._ The tall man…

Sherlock turned to the man in question. This one was unnerving. He had short pitch black hair that framed his face, and a slim, athletic figure. He too wore dark and expensive clothing, but it was more simple in design. He held himself with ease, but he still gave off the aura of a cat eying its prey. But yet again, the eyes were the thing that Sherlock got hung up on. The eyes were a deep maroon. Okay, those _had_ to be colored contacts. _He stands slightly behind the child. His bodyguard? He certainly holds himself like a trained killer… Killer. He's a killer._ The word bounced around in Sherlock's mind. The one thing he was sure about, and it was about something like this? This won't tell him where they came from. Speaking of which, there was not a scratch on either of the intruders, even though they should have gotten cut by the glass as they came through the window. _What the hell…_

He was thrown from his deductions by John's appearance, skidding to a stop and holding the two trespassers at gunpoint. But what the tall man did next was unexpected. Most people would be terrified, or at least a little nervous to have a weapon pointed at them. But he _smiled_.

"Now that we're all here," he said with a silky voice, "we can get down to business." He looked down to the child, as if waiting for his cue. The child stood and addressed the flatmates, even with the gun trained on him.

"My name is Ciel Phantomhive," he spoke with importance. "I have come to you for help on a case of mine. My butler, Sebastian, will do you no harm so long as no harm is done do me. Am I understood?"

Both Sherlock and John nodded uneasily. They knew enough not to get on the bad side of the chi-Ciel just yet, even though they were a bit more worried about the butler.

"Good. Now, Sebastian, go make us some tea," Ciel ordered. Then the butler did the strangest thing. He knelt in front of his master and said something that seemed to hold much more respect than a child deserved.

"Yes, my lord."

* * *

 **Okay! That was a bit longer.**

 **I think I can call this one an actual chapter. Please stay posted, since I am just warming up with this particular story. I think the chapters will start to gradually get longer the more I write, so again, bear with me. Any reviews are greatly appreciated, anyone telling me about my story and how I could improve it is greatly encouraging! (Also I am having trouble coming up with new crossover ideas, so if anyone wants to check out my profile I have the things I am interested in writing on there… please suggest some things!)**

 **All the love,**

 **~TheFullmetalSociopath**


	3. Chapter 2: The Villainous Noble

**Okay I'm not gonna lie- I'm really new to this site.**

 **Like less-than-three-days-with-an-account new.**

 **That said I really don't know how to respond to reviews yet, so I would love any guidance on that. However, to answer some questions posed by a review I got, yes I am thinking of introducing a few ships, but I make no promises. Maybe some undertones in some cases. You'll just have to wait and see, I guess. Also this is most definitely a post season 2 setting for the Kuroshitsuji part of this crossover. I enjoy trying to fit two different stories together as canonically as possible!**

 **Disclaimer: You should have picked up on it by this point, but I own neither Sherlock nor Kuroshitsuji.**

* * *

Chapter Two: The Villainous Noble

 _ **Ciel Phantomhive**_

Ciel was struggling to hide his frustration. His insolent butler had only been able to find tea of the lowest caliber in this pigsty, and it tasted like dirt to the Earl's pampered tongue. Of course, he didn't really require tea at all, or even any type of human food. But alas, old habits die hard, and so the (now demonic) Earl Phantomhive still enjoyed his fair share of tea and sweets. He looked up from his disgusting tea and addressed the two lowlifes he was coming to for help, of all things. The short doctor, John Watson, still clutched at his gun. As always, Sebastian remained behind Ciel, providing the promise of protection should the need arise. Though this too was an old habit from the good old days, since Ciel doubted that bullets would kill him now.

"We are currently working on a case even I find difficult to solve, but know this, we only came to you as a last resort." Ciel declared haughtily. "If at any point you prove to be irksome to our efforts, we _will_ deal with you accordingly."

"Now hang on a minute!" John spoke up, irate, "just who are you to have that kind of authority?"

At this Ciel stood, always glad to have a chance to boast his title. "I am Earl Ciel Phantomhive, head of the Phantomhive house, owner of the Funtom toy company, the Queen's Guard Dog, and," he grinned wickedly, having come to enjoy his final title, "the Villainous Noble."

"Nope!" Sherlock declared, looking away dismissively, "Never heard of you."

Ciel furrowed his brows. It would have been unlikely if he had been heard of, since he had for the most part disappeared from the public eye, and general knowledge, for almost two centuries. But his titles should have provoked some sort of reaction. Exactly who were these characters to take his presence so lightly?

"And," Sherlock continued, much to Ciel's vexation, "why should we take orders from you?"

Ciel hated having to use someone else's authority other than his own to get the job done, and in this case it wasn't even a job, it was just one conversation, for goodness's sake… He sighed. _I guess there's no way around it, since these two are as stubborn as I was warned,_ he mused.

"You should comply with us because we were sent by your brother, Mycroft Holmes."

~0~

 _ **John Watson**_

The entire room was silent for one beat.

Two. Ciel was obviously waiting for a response.

Three. No one was quite ready to give one.

Four…. Confusion.

"Now just what the hell do you mean by that?" shouted John. "If you really were with Mycroft you'd have some sort of obvious qualification or something, and on top of that you _break_ into our flat, and you act like you own the place. To hell with Mycroft! Why should we believe you?" This was quite uncharacteristic for him, but in his defense, he was tired from lack of sleep, pissed at the broken window, and also just unwilling to believe there was a bloody _child_ ordering him around.

"Joh-" Sherlock tried to interject, but then stopped midway through and seemed to re-analyze the situation. He suddenly looked over to John with that I-have-the-upper-hand-now look. John gave a small nod of acknowledgement and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. _Just let Sherlock handle his brother's cronies,_ he told himself.

"Indeed. Why would we trust you?" Sherlock picked up where John left off in his fit of rage. Before Ciel could answer, Sherlock continued with his tactic. "And just why should we take orders from some child?" he asked cuttingly.

That did the trick.

John knew that Sherlock wanted to get Ciel off balance so he could gain some insight into the boy, some upper hand over him, some way under his skin.

And boy, did it work.

* * *

 **Thank you for reading the second chapter of** **His Butler, Deduced** **! Sorry that I'm a little on the late side! I am really enjoying writing this story, though I realize the chapters are quite short. I am trying to make them longer, really. I love all my readers, so thank you so much for reading! Please review, favorite, and follow! I am also currently working on my second story, which is a crossover between Tokyo Ghoul and Supernatural, since I recently discovered that there were exactly zero of that kind on this site. So please read it once I get around to posting it!**

 **Thanks for reading!**

 **~TheFullmetalSociopath**

 **(P.S. I know I've been cycling through the PoVs of all the characters so far, but I just don't quite know how to write for Sebastian. His personality is just so foreign. I only want to portray the characters correctly, so unless I get any requests for our favorite demon butler's PoV I hope you don't mind if I just leave it out. Super sorry.)**


	4. Chapter 3: The Pompous Bastard

**Hello my lovely readers!**

 **I am so so so so so sorry that I didn't post yesterday as promised.**

 **It gets so busy near the start of school. ANYWHO! I will try to stick to my daily posting regimine, but it will likely stretch to a few days in between updates since I am trying to (again) lengthen chapters. Please take time to favorite, follow, and review, as well as check out my profile! I swear I'll have more stories out soon! I'm trying to bring a little more lightheartedness and humor into my writing so if it doesn't work out let me know, k?**

 **Disclaimer: Nope! I don't own them!**

* * *

Chapter Three: The Pompous Bastard

 _ **John Watson**_

John was, frankly, astonished Sherlock's tactic worked so well on the brat. Of course it was Sherlock, so he knew it would work to some extent, but this reaction was comical.

It was all John could do to stop himself from laughing. _This is hardly the time to laugh,_ he scolded himself. _This should be serious. We still don't know anything. They could be lying. They could be out to kill us! Who knows what their goals are?_

And yet, despite all the objections the rational portion of John's mind threw at him, how could he not be amused at a scene like _this?_

Ciel was being physically held back by Sebastian, whilst kicking and screaming, attempting to assert that he was, in fact, not a child. The butler did not seem surprised at this, rather only slightly amused, which John saw in the almost imperceptible upward curl of his lip. John almost couldn't decipher most of his words as he was speaking at such a fast rate, but the hate and rage was unmistakably there. Luckily Sebastian soon calmed the young Earl down enough so that he could speak in normal tones.

Yet before he could speak Sebastian quickly explained what had just happened. He bowed to the flatmates and said, "I deeply apologize for the young master's actions. He has become incredibly irate in recent years about his being addressed as a child." He straightened, and with a smirk returned to his place behind Earl Phantomhive's chair.

Ciel inhaled deeply and spoke calmly, "Please do refrain from calling me such things. I have a history of my own, and there are things best not revealed. At least, until you comply with us." And there it was. That devilish glint in his eye. This kid knew just how to string an investigator driven by sheer curiosity along. Damn this kid.

"Well," Sherlock said, "I am not sure we can work with someone so short tempered as you. How might you act in a critical situation, I wonder?" Ciel glowered at him. "Moreover," he continued, eyeing Ciel, "we would need specific details on the case and positive identification that my brother in fact sent you."

"We couldn't possibly work with you if we couldn't trust you," John added seriously.

"Yes, well, I am not so sure about trust, but our 'positive identification' should be…" Ciel paused. His eyes flicked to Sebastian. "What time is it?" he inquired.

Sebastian, much to John's surprise, pulled out an ornate pocket watch. _Why the hell would he even have that? It's not even practical. Not to mention expensive!_ John thought. "It is 12:03," Sebastian replied, closing the watch with a snap.

"Our positive identification should be arriving in approximately 2 minutes," Ciel finished cryptically. At this point John was just irritated with the mind games this little brat and Sherlock were playing, as well as _done_ with this creepy butler in his house. He most certainly wasn't going to tolerate some type of riddle.

"What the bloody hell do you mean by arr-" John started to ask hotly, but was cut off by the sound of a door opening, and footsteps pounding up the staircase. A tall man with a pinched and sour face, donning an expensive suit and carrying an umbrella, appeared at the door.

"Well you didn't have to take off and break in their window, for heaven's sake," he said distastefully, addressing the Earl and butler. "You could have at least acted like civilized folk and used the _door_ if you were going to show up with no warning." H muttered something imperceptible under his breath that John didn't quite catch. He turned to Sherlock.

"Brother, dear, these are two of my," he scrunched up his face as if he were being forced to swallow rocks, " _associates._ I have sent them to you for help on a case that they have appeared to be incapable of solving." He then made for the door, "do have fun!" he called over his shoulder dismissively.

The appearance of Mycroft Holmes had been so sudden and short-lived that not one person in the room had had time enough to react before he was already gone. John jumped up to ask him more but he only saw the closing of their flat door before Mycroft's government car sped off. As he went back and sat down Ciel turned to them and smiled triumphantly.

"I was surprised at the rate he got here," he grinned. "He must have been in quite the rush."

"Quite," Sherlock muttered, and John knew that he was filing everything away, trying to figure out _exactly_ what was going on. That reassurance was likely the only reason John didn't strangle Ciel Phantomhive at what he said next.

"Well, I suppose that settles it. Our 'positive identification' has shown his face, and you are now expected to help us in any and all ways possible." His eyes glinted. "As instructed by the British government."

Oh, how John wanted to strangle the kid, and that pompous bastard Mycroft too while he was at it.

* * *

 **Okay how was that?**

 **Is the plot too slow?**

 **Want some action already or are you okay with the intricate set up?**

 **I find it really encouraging to see this thing get reviews, follows, favorites, and the like. I really really really love it when you guys ask about my work and critique it because it helps me get my gears turning. Anything I may have done with my writing technique that was inconsistent or something please let me know. Thanks for reading!**

 **Love you all,**

 **~TheFullmetalSociopath**


	5. IMPORTANT NOTICE

**NOTICE: IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ!**

 **Hello my dear readers!**

 **Oh, it breaks my heart to have to do this.**

 **I know you've all been reading and enjoying this story, and I just can't thank you all enough for even considering to read it, let alone the praise I have gotten. I really loved writing this story, but I am afraid I am going to have to put this on an indefinite hiatus. I wanted to be an outlet and a way to practice my writing and get feedback without worrying about any of my original ideas being stolen, and it has done just that. However, it has come to my attention that if I ever want to publish the work that I have had in my mind for a good two years, I need to start at some point. I can never, ever thank you all enough, and I can never apologize enough. I have read more than my fair share of great stories that were discontinued with no notice and no explanation, so I at least wanted to give you that. Please wish me luck, and I hope to come back to these stories in the future!**

 **Lots of love,**

 **~TheFullmetalSocipath**


End file.
